Trinity

“Wo wei ni xie de,” he said, as he raised the violin to his left shoulder, tucking it under his chin. He had told her many violinists used a shoulder rest, but he did not: there was a slight mark on the side of his throat, like a permanent bruise, where the violin rested.

“You — made something for me?” Tessa asked.

“I wrote something for you,” he corrected, with a smile, and began to play.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Tess?” A soft voice at the door; she looked up and saw Will there, silhouetted in the light from the corridor.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“Will!”
He turned at the familiar voice and saw Tessa. There was a small path cut along the side of the hill, lined with unfamiliar white flowers, and she was walking up it, toward him. Her long brown hair blew in the wind — she had taken off her straw bonnet, and held it in one hand, waving it at him and smiling as if she were glad to see him.
His own heart leaped up at the sight of her. “Tess,” he called. But she was still such a distance away — she seemed both very near and very far suddenly and at the same time. He could see every detail of her pretty, upturned face, but could not touch her, and so he stood, waiting and desiring, and his heart beat like the wings of seagulls in his chest.
At last she was there, close enough that he could see where the grass and flowers bent beneath the tread of her shoes. He reached out for her —”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

“A peasant that reads is a prince in waiting.”
― Walter Mosley, The Long Fall